


The Museum

by sra_danvers



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 19:23:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3085277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sra_danvers/pseuds/sra_danvers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry Potter just wanted to forget and continue with his life. When the third Death Eater uprising, took place Harry discovered how dangerous not remembering the past could be. Then he founded the Museum of the Second Wizarding War.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Museum

**Author's Note:**

  * For [suitesamba](https://archiveofourown.org/users/suitesamba/gifts).



> Filling Suitesamba's prompt for the Scret Snarry Swap.

The Museum was deserted, and the visitor really appreciated that. He had enough company with all those ghosts of the past looking at him from every picture, or even from some objects.

Fortunately, the ghosts were only in his mind.

He had gone many years without hearing about those distant events, as he had expected when he went away.

The museum’s main hall was a large room dedicated to Harry Potter and both his young friends, backthen The room was well illuminated, decorated with a myriad of coloured objects obviously directed towards attracting children. In the middle of that optimistic representation of war there was an enormous statue of Harry Potter, flanked by his inseparable mates: Granger and Weasley.

“Finally Harry Potter has a statue; the Hero of the Wizarding world,” the man said, sneering.

Suddenly he found he was not alone. He looked down and saw a boy looking up at him with a frown. Something in his eyes made the man uncomfortable, as if he was being reprimanded by a brat who couldn’t be more than eight years old.

The man ignored the insistent look and went to the next hall, not even looking back to see if he was being followed.

The next hall was dedicated to Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. Not that the whole name was displayed anywhere, but the man had known the headmaster well. He shivered at some of the memories in his mind.

On the wall in front of the man hung a huge picture of the headmaster’s office at Hogwarts, excessively ornately framed. No wizard was in the picture, and the man went away, fearing this picture was connected with the one that surely was at Hogwarts.

In his haste he collided with a small figure: the child again.

“I’m sorry,” said the dark-haired child. But he didn’t go away, choosing to stare at the man with his arms crossed. “Are you going to glare at Dumbledore, too?” he asked.

“No harm done. But you must know it is impolite to ask such a question of a stranger.”

“I’m Albus Potter!” the boy shouted abruptly, offering his hand.

The man took it, looking closely at the child: dark hair, green eyes. He closed his eyes and pinched his nose. He should have stayed away from the British Wizarding world.

When the man opened his eyes, the boy pulled his tunic down. Of course Potter would name his son after Dumbledore. And of course that boy would be curious at the only visitor that didn’t idolise his father.

“You can’t. But you may,” said the man.

The boy smiled widely, but he didn’t repeat the question.

“I’ve said my name. It’s _umpolite_ that you… You also need to say yours.”

The man stared at the brat and sighed. “I’m Thomas Prince.”

“Wow! Are you Severus Snape’s kin?” Albus asked, suddenly all excited.

“Why are you asking me that?” Thomas looked at the little boy with mistrust.

“Snape’s mother was called Eileen Prince. Before she married Snape’s father,” the boy answered proudly.

“And you know that because…” Thomas demanded.

“I know _everything_ about Snape! Come with me!”

Albus took Thomas’ hand and led him into another hall.

The man stood in the middle, looking around so stunned that he didn’t even let go of the child’s hand.

“See? Lots of things about Snape. And I know lots more. My father told me all about him. Are you going to glare at him, too? I’ve seen people glaring at his pictures and I don’t like that at all. Are you angry with me?”

Thomas just shook his head, trying to ease his shock and giving him an insincere smile. But soon he diverted his attention from the child to look around once again.

“Do you want to see his robe?” Albus asked, trying to catch his attention. “It’s the one he used at Hogwarts. Do you know he was my father’s professor? And he worked for the Order of the Phoenix. He received the Order of Merlin First Class for what he did. My father reclaimed that. But as he was dead, we keep it here. See? In the middle of the hall. And Headmistress McGonagall found some papers in Dumbledore’s office that… You want to see them?”

Albus took Thomas’ hand and led him to a glass cabinet.

The boy continued talking non-stop, but the words didn’t really reach Thomas’ mind.

“Albus, your grandma’s here!” the girl at the reception said as she entered the hall.

“But it’s so soon!” the boy complained.

“The same time as yesterday. Come on, tomorrow you can be a guide again.”

“I am not a guide,” Albus muttered under his breath. But he obediently went to her. “Good bye,” he said to Thomas before leaving the hall. “I wanted to show you so many things…” he pouted.

“I hope he wasn’t bothering you, sir,” the blonde girl said when Albus was out.

“No. Not really,” Thomas answered.

And surprisingly, even to himself, it was true.

*~**~**~*

The following week, Thomas visited the museum again. He went straight to the Severus Snape hall, not even stopping before Albus Dumbledore’s picture to see if the headmaster was there that day or at his other picture at Hogwarts.

Thomas had been thinking about Snape’s hall. The place was as bright as Dumbledore’s. The data on display was an unprejudiced tale about the wizard’s life; the simple objects were mere details that made the exhibition warmer. The colours and atmosphere weren’t as friendly as the main hall’s, but in general the hall transmitted an ambiance of respect and solemnity that not even Dumbledore’s hall presented.

He was staring at a display of different flasks around a copper cauldron when he heard small footsteps approaching behind him.

“Hi, Mister Prince! I’ve been looking for you! You didn’t answer my question in the end!” Albus said, waving his arms.

“And what question was that?” Thomas asked, going along with the little boy.

“Were you Snape’s kin? I don’t know any Princes in the Wizarding world.”

“And do you know how many wizards?”

“I know lots of people! My father works for the Ministry of Magic, and my mother works for the _Daily Prophet._ Besides, I have a large family and Teddy is at Hogwarts and I know his friends, too. Wait a moment, you didn’t answer again!”

Thomas couldn’t help but smile. “I was,” he answered. “Nevertheless, I wasn’t a closer relative, and I didn’t know him well,” he quickly added, when he saw the boy’s wide eyes.

“Wow, but you knew him! Do you have anything of his? Or his mother’s… or anything, really.” Albus asked, all excited.

“I have nothing worthy of a museum.”

“But anything would be awesome!”

“Now you’re beginning to be a little creepy,” Thomas said without acrimony. 

“What’s creepy?”

“Why are you so interested in Severus Snape?” Thomas asked, not interested in giving the boy any lesson.

“He saved my father’s life,” Albus said gravely.

“As Dumbledore did.”

Albus shrugged his shoulders. “My father doesn’t talk much about Dumbledore. But he talks a lot about Snape. He was a hero!”

“Severus Snape was anything but a hero,” Thomas said. He was so serious, but suddenly Albus burst out laughing.

“I don’t know what that means, but my father says that Snape would say that same thing you said. You know, if he was alive. It makes me sad that I didn’t got to know him.”

“Get to know him. And believe me, you wouldn’t adore him if you knew him.”

“Yes, I know. He was… my father says he was a lot of words that I can’t repeat. Can I say rude?”

Thomas smirked. “You can say rude, it’s not a bad word, and wouldn’t be a lie.”

“But he was awesome, too! Everybody thought he was on the bad side, but he was really working with the good wizards. He was like a spy!”

“Actually, back then it wasn’t so glamourous.”

“What’s _glamurus_?”

“Things in real life aren’t like things in the movies.”

“I know; people died. My uncle Fred died. And Teddy’s parents,” Albus sadly said. “Do you want to see a thing?” he added, not wanting to talk about such awful things. He took Thomas’ hand and led him to a small glass cabinet that the man hadn’t noticed before. Inside there was only a book. “That’s mine,” Albus proudly said. “My father gifted it to me, but I’m lending it to the museum. My granny always says that sharing is caring. And I care lots.”

“You’re always here, in the museum?” Thomas asked. Through the week he had been wondering about the boy, alone in such a place.

“If I’m lucky and Granny Molly is busy. James likes Uncle George’s shop more. It’s funny, but there’s a lot of people I like here more.”

“James is your brother?” Thomas’ expression was suddenly somewhat annoyed.

“Yes. And I have a sister, too. But she’s _more small_ and she always wants to be with Granny Molly.”

“She’s smaller,” Thomas corrected. “What’s her name?” he almost whispered.

“Lily. My grandma was called Lily, but I didn’t got to know her.”

“You didn’t get to know her,” Thomas corrected perfunctorily once again.

“Yes, that too. Are you well, Mister Prince?” Albus said, seeing that the man was paler than before.

“I’m fine,” Thomas answered. But his voice was not steady.

“Do you know what this is?” Albus asked, pointing at the book with a little finger.

“An old Potions textbook.”

“The Half-Blood Prince’s book,” Albus gravely said. Thomas rolled his eyes. “Yes, it was Snape’s, but it was a cool nickname, isn’t it? My father told me that I can use it when I go to Hogwarts. It has so many instructions, but it’s not cheating because I’ll work hard all the same.”

“I bet your father told you that,” Thomas said, between amused and annoyed.

“He did. But I’ll not share it with James. Because he says that if I’m a Slytherin he won’t be my brother any more.”

“Why you should be a Slytherin?” Thomas asked, gobsmacked.

Albus shrugged his shoulders and pouted.

“I wouldn’t mind. Sometimes I think I would like it. You know, Snape’s my favourite person in the world, after my daddy. But sometimes I hope I’ll be a Gryffindor, because all my family was in Gryffindor. Except Teddy, Teddy’s a Hufflepuff. I wouldn’t mind being a Hufflepuff, either. James says I should want to be a Gryffindor and he calls me a freak because I don’t really care. Am I a freak because I don’t care which Hogwarts House I’ll be Sorted into?”

“You’re not a freak. And it seems to me that your brother is a… rude boy,” Thomas said, making Albus laugh. “And what does your father say about you being a Slytherin?” he asked with genuine interest.

“Oh, he always says:” the boy cleared his throat and forced his voice: _"’Albus Severus, you were named after two headmasters of Hogwarts. One of them was a Slytherin and he was probably the bravest man I ever knew.’_ So he doesn’t mind.”

Thomas couldn’t believe what the boy had said, or more precisely, that these words could have been pronounced by his father. But the lad seemed to have memorized the words by heart, as incredible as it might seem.

“You would be a worthy Slytherin, Albus Severus,” Thomas solemnly said, when he finally got over his shock.

The boy beamed at the man, straightening his back with pride.

“Were you a Slytherin, sir? Nerissa, the museum caretaker, was a Slytherin. She’s always so nice to me, even when I talk too much.”

“I didn’t study at Hogwarts,” Thomas answered, and Albus put on a sad face, as if that was a terrible fact. “And you can call me Thomas.”

“I’ll do it! Thomas, do you want for me to show you more things? This is my favourite hall; I know all the things on display. James says that I’m a know-it-all. But I’m not, am I? It’s just that I like to know more about my namesake…”

“Only silly people think that knowledge is despicable. I bet your brother’s favourite hall is Dumbledore’s.”

Albus shook his head, suddenly straight-faced. He took some steps toward the entrance opposite Dumbledore’s hall and signalled Thomas to approach him.

“James likes this one more. But I think he says that just to seem braver than me, because Daddy doesn’t allow me to go there. He says I have nightmares later.”

Thomas took a look inside that new hall. It was darker, not just as to the light but in the decoration. It was a hall obviously dedicated to Lord Voldemort.

“I don’t like this hall, either,” he said. And it was true.

“So, can I show you more things?” Albus offered, beaming again.

“I couldn’t have a better guide,” Thomas praised the boy with a small bow.

Albus excitedly clapped his hands and ran to another place in the hall. Thomas followed him willingly.

*~**~**~*

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!!!!” Albus Severus launched himself into his father’s arms. “I have to tell you a THING!!!” the boy shouted.

“Hi, Nerissa,” Harry greeted the museum caretaker. “Did he eat too many chocolate frogs?”

“Good afternoon, Harry. No, he really has a surprise for you. He’s been restless all day long. Come on, Albus, tell your father about…”

“I’ll do it! I’ll do it!” the boy jumped from his father’s arms and straightened solemnly. “Mister Prince gave me a thing. He really did!”

“Albus Severus, I told you to inform me next time you see that man in the museum.”

“But I didn’t see him!” Albus complained.

Harry looked at Nerissa and the girl nodded.

“He came two days ago, looking for Albus. When I told him he was not here, he left an envelope for him. A heavy envelope,” she said deliberately. Just hearing her tone and looking at her eyes, Harry knew she had cast a charm to discover possible spells on it, before giving it to his son. Harry knew he was leaving Albus with a reliable person.

“It’s a gift, Daddy! A gift just for me!” Albus opened the envelope he had clutched in his hand all day and showed his father an old necklace. “This was Eileen Snape’s. Well, it was from his family, it says so here,” he said, shaking the note in his hand. “It was Eileen Prince’s. Thomas _writed_ it. Thomas said I could keep it, just me, not the museum. Well, he said: _’provided that you keep it and it won’t be put on display in the museum.’_ But Nerissa says that means that now it’s mine and just mine.”

“You can’t keep that, Albus,” Harry said, taking it and giving it a closer look. The necklace was old, very old. It was copper coloured with an inset green stone, probably precious. “It’s too valuable; we can’t accept it.”

“But Daddy! He said I can keep it!” Albus complained.

“Albus Severus, go to the office and take your things. We’ll talk about it at home,” Harry said, putting the necklace in the pocket of his uniform tunic.

Harry sighed when his son went out of the room.

“Don’t worry, Harry, I think the man didn’t act out of malice,” Nerissa said, clapping Harry’s shoulder.

“But you said there was something in him that it was not fully right.”

“It was just the first impression; his appearance was… you know, it seems Snape didn’t take his looks from his father.”

“Well, I’m not comfortable with it. Please, let me know if the man comes here again. Until then, it is preferable that Albus not spend more time in the museum.”

“He’s not going to like that,” Nerissa said.

“No. He’s going to hate me,” Harry lamented, clapping his pocket. “Being a father is harder than being Head Auror, Nerissa.”

“You’re doing well, Harry, especially being alone as you are,” the girl said, making eyes at Harry.

“I’m not alone, Nerissa; I’m not,” Harry answered, taking her hand amiably for a second.

When finally Albus appeared, pouting and glaring at his father, and they disappeared together, Nerissa sighed deeply.

*~**~**~*

“Mister Prince?” Harry asked the man’s back.

Nerissa had advised him of the man’s presence, again in Snape’s hall. When Thomas Prince finally faced him, Harry lost his composure.

“Albus really was right; you and Snape are very alike. I mean… your dark hair and your… nose.” Harry stopped his prattle and smiled self-deprecatingly.

“I’m not going to take offense at that comparison,” Thomas said, not smiling at all.

“Of course not! I wouldn’t dare to… In fact I’ve always thought that Snape…” Harry flushed and took a sidelong glance at one of Snape’s pictures. “I’m sorry. I’m Harry Potter,” he said, offering his hand.

“Yes, I supposed that,” Thomas said, shaking Harry’s hand. “I’m not going to introduce myself, considering that you do know my name already.”

“Albus is talking non-stop about you. You were so kind to indulge his interest in your family. Too kind, in fact. I fear we can’t accept your generous gift,” Harry said, taking it out of the pocket of his uniform.

“I didn’t give it to him out of kindness. It’s just fair that he has it, for he sees Severus Snape in a better light than I’ve always seen him.”

“But… it’s such a valuable jewel.”

“Material things have the importance you want to give them. I’m sure Albus didn’t see the cost of it, but the emotional importance of the legacy,” Thomas said, looking at him with reproach.

“Can we talk about that, please? I’ve wanted to talk to you for a while. After all, it’s not every day that one can find a person who knew Severus Snape for real.”

“Do you want to talk to me as Albus’ father? Or as an Auror?” Thomas asked directly.

“I want to speak to you as Harry Potter,” he simply said, showing with the palms of his hands up that he had no bad intentions. “If it’s alright with you, we can have some tea in my office.”

“In the Ministry?” Thomas said, suddenly tense.

“No, at the museum,” Harry answered, nodding toward the entrance, where the stairs to the director’s office were.

“Are you telling me that you have an office in the museum? Are you the owner?” Thomas was so shocked that he couldn’t hold his tongue. “I can’t believe it. The Ministry didn’t want to build a statue of the great Harry Potter and you took on the task yourself?”

For a moment, the silence was so heavy that Thomas thought he had gone too far in incensing the head of the Auror office. The following second, Harry burst into laughter.

“You and Severus Snape are really alike,” Harry said, before turning around and beginning to walk to his office.

Thomas followed him, trying to remain calm. Even though Potter had been nothing but friendly, one could appreciate that the man was used to giving orders. And he sure expected they were quickly followed.

But when they arrived at the office, the only question Potter asked him was how he liked his tea.

While Harry was preparing the beverages, Thomas looked around the room. The place was full of photos and objects that obviously didn’t make it to the exhibit. Some of the pictures showed familiar faces, like Albus Severus and two other children, but others were different people smiling beside Potter.

“It was a collective project,” Harry said, noticing that Prince was looking at the photographs. “So many survivors of the Battle of Hogwarts wanted to help. They needed to heal… and me, too.” Harry sighed and sat in front of Thomas after serving the tea. “You know, I just wanted to forget, back then. I threw myself into Auror training. Afterwards I married, and James Sirius came.”

“James Sirius,” Thomas repeated win a vicious tone of voice. “For Merlin’s sake, Potter, your wife didn’t have a say in naming any of your brood?”

“She really hadn’t much interest in it. In them,” Harry said bitterly. “She was always travelling with her Quidditch team. When Albus and Lily came… well, she truly wasn’t as happy as I was. Then she retired and I thought she was going to make up for all her absences, at least with the children…” He gulped some tea, as if to clean out a bad taste. “But then she just accepted another job offer. The _Prophet_ contracted her as a sports journalist. Of course, the job entailed travelling after every game, even out of the country. That was the end of a marriage that never had been a real marriage to begin with.”

Thomas didn’t know what to say. Potter’s face showed how those events still affected him, but he hadn’t enough confidence to offer any reassurance.

“But we were talking about the museum,” Harry said, rubbing his eyes. “I learned that it’s dangerous to forget the past. In the worst possible way,” he said sombrely.

Harry looked Thomas in the eye, looking for a sign, but he saw no understanding in his expression.

“You really have been out of the country for years. You don’t know about the Third Uprising?” Thomas shook his head, meeting Harry’s eyes for some long seconds. “Yaxley. The Carrows. Some minor Death Eaters. They attacked the Ministry. It was clearly a suicide mission, conceived uniquely as revenge. Five wizards died that day, among them Alecto Carrow.”

“And you feel guilty for them,” Thomas whispered. “You couldn’t have foreseen such an attack, Potter.”

Harry smiled bitterly, but he didn’t say a word. He didn’t want to repeat a conversation he had had thousands of times with too many people. Instead he stood up and signalled Thomas to follow him, although the man hadn’t even tasted his tea.

Harry led him to the entrance of Voldemort’s hall.

“It seems you didn’t look at this one thoroughly,” Harry commented before stepping inside the darker hall.

“I didn’t even visit this one,” Thomas said, without elaborating on his reasons for not wanting to see the dark part of the museum.

Although the room wasn’t as dark as it could have been. Voldemort’s wall was focused in his Muggle life, showing him as a maniacal and cruel wizard, but nothing more than a man.

When Thomas saw the Death Eaters’ part of the exposition, he understood Albus’ fear. Some masks were hanging on the wall, a terrible and sinister image for a boy.

Potter was patiently waiting for him at a corner. When Thomas arrived there, he could see why Potter was still blaming himself. Some _Prophet_ cuttings published the day following the tragedy showed the terrible damage at the Ministry. Even though no corpses were visible, it was clear that the spots on the wall were bloodstains.

“They didn’t use Avadas, they were vicious and brutal. We arrived late.”

“But you arrived before they made things worse.”

“Nevertheless, too late for those four wizards,” Harry sadly said, gesturing at the list that was mounted in a prominent spot. He sighed and took off his glasses to rub his eyes once more. “I’m sorry; it’s been a long day.”

Harry went out of the sinister hall and waited awhile in Snape’s hall for Thomas to join him.

“In the end, we didn’t talk about him,” Harry said, nodding to one of Snape’s pictures. Thomas simply shrugged his shoulders. “And you didn’t drink your tea.”

“No, I didn’t,” Thomas stated.

“We could meet someday. You know, to speak,” Harry offered, somehow cautious.

“We could.” Thomas was also cautious in his agreement.

“I’ll give you my personal number,” Harry said, still trying to understand his cold demeanour. “Or… you could come to dinner. At my home. Well, our home. I’m sure Albus would be thrilled to see you again.”

“I couldn’t…”

“Please,” Harry said, putting the necklace in one of Thomas’ hands and closing his hands over it. “Albus has been avoiding me for days. He will forgive me easily if you come.”

Harry stared at Thomas until he sighed and nodded.

“All right, I’ll go. But not to dinner, just to give Albus the necklace.”

Pleased, Harry didn’t ask for more. He walked to his office, which had a fireplace connected to the Floo network. On his way he stopped in front of his statue.

“The Ministry forced us to make this… monstrosity. Neither Hermione nor Ron were happy about it. But we needed the Ministry funding, so… we finally agreed. But I didn’t tolerate information about our adult lives, or displaying images of our children.”

Thomas bowed his head in agreement. He now understood Potter’s personal motivations better than the first time he saw the statue.

“Nerissa, we’re going home. I’ll call you to talk about Albus,” Harry said before climbing the stairs to his office.

The girl didn’t say a word, but Thomas saw the scowl that Harry couldn’t see.

“A very devoted employee,” Thomas said when he entered the office.

Harry looked at him for a while before saying, “Oh, Nerissa. Yes, she’s like family. Otherwise I would never entrust Albus to her.”

Thomas just nodded. If Potter didn’t know about his employee’s crush, he wasn’t going to bring that out.

“Potter’s Lair,” Harry said, his face suddenly red. “Yes, I know, the boys insisted on that name,” he added, offering him some Floo powder.

Harry went first so, when Thomas arrived at his home, he was already talking to a woman.

“Molly, this is Thomas Prince. I told you about him.”

“You and Albus, too,” she said, chuckling. “I’m Molly Weasley, grandmother of this troupe. It’s a pity that my family is waiting for me, because I would love to stay and have dinner with you.”

When the woman embraced Thomas briefly but strongly, the man felt as if the comment was more of a threat than a compliment.

“I will not stay; I wouldn’t want to intrude…” Thomas began to say. But the woman made a dismissive gesture and pushed him aside to clear the fireplace.

“What nonsense! I made too much dinner; Harry will be thankful if you help him with it, or he will be eating leftovers all week. James! Set another place at the table, honey! Bye!”

Thomas stared at the fireplace for a while, not wanting to meet Potter’s eyes. He didn’t like to be bossed around, even less by a woman he had just met. When he finally turned around, Potter seemed as uneasy as he felt.

“She’s awesome, but sometimes she’s just too much,” Harry stated. “Don’t feel obliged to stay. Even though if you do want to stay, that would be great. Albus would love it,” he added, noticing that his words had showed too much eagerness. “Well, I’m going to call Albus. He’ll be in his room; he hasn’t gone out for days.”

Seconds away from Harry’s exit a boy made his appearance. He was clearly older than Albus, and he was more like Potter than his brother.

“Who’s coming to dinner?” the boy asked. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t know…” He stared at the man for a while. “Wow, you’re Thomas? You sure are him, nobody could be so… Snapish. Albus talks a lot about you. Are you here to bring him the necklace? Can I see it?”

Thomas was glad to see he hadn’t misjudged the boy when he disliked him just at hearing his name. Like his father before him, the child had been spoiled.

“This is an old heirloom closely connected to the Slytherin House. Now do you still want to touch it?” Thomas asked, showing the necklace to him.

“I don’t know what an heirloom is, but I sure want to touch it!”

James jumped trying to catch it, and Thomas raised his arm out of his reach. He sighed and opted for a more direct approach.

“You were pestering your brother about Slytherin, young man,” he said in a severe tone of voice.

“That’s what big brothers do,” James serenely said. “Anyway, Albus’s going to be a Ravenclaw. I can see it, he’s at father’s museum all day, and he’s always reading about things. And he’s obsessed about his namesake.”

“And you’re not?” Thomas asked.

“Well, my grandfather died when he was so young… And Sirius spent so many years in Azkaban… He was innocent, you know? That’s sad. Can I see it now?”

Thomas gave him the necklace, speechless at the boy’s words. He watched how James admired it briefly before giving it back to him.

“It’s gorgeous, thanks. Lily!” James suddenly shouted. “Hand-washing time!”

The boy arranged a new place at the table, showing that he knew where things were kept in the kitchen.

A little girl arrived then in a hurry, not noticing Thomas’ presence.

“Granny washed my hands before,” she said to her brother.

“Before, before? At lunch?” James asked, knowing his sister well. Lily nodded, already with a pout. It was obviously a daily fight between them. “Well, then we need to clean them again, you know it. Come on, we have a guest!” he said, trying to cheer up his sister.

“Who’s coming?” asked the girl, stepping on the stool that her brother lent her to help her reach the kitchen sink.

“Albus’ friend. Do you remember him? He’s Severus Snape’s kin,” James said, putting some soap in his sister hands. “Rub them. Harder, I know you’ve been playing outside.”

“I don’t like him, James,” Lily complained. James made a face and looked at the man at his back. “Albus was angry because of him, and Daddy was sad, and I don’t want to see him, never never.”

“Shhh, he’s here, Lily,” James said, drying her hands with a kitchen towel. “He has come to put things right, OK?”

“Oh. Are you the Prince?” Lily asked when she saw the man.

“Lily, that’s just his name! And that’s not a way to say hello. What did Granny say to you last week?” James pointed at her.

“Hello, I’m Lily Potter,” she said, taking her skirt in both hands and curtseying in an exaggerated way.

“Nice to meet you, Lily. I’m Thomas Prince,” the man said, bowing in turn. Then he looked at James. The boy certainly hadn’t had the easy life he had supposed him to. “Nice to meet you, too, James.”

The boy beamed at him, but soon he was taking his sister to the table. “Let’s go sit before Daddy comes down, Lily.”

Harry certainly came soon after. Albus was hiding at his back. It was the first time Thomas had seen him shy.

“Say hi, Albus. Mister Prince has come to see you,” Harry said.

Suddenly Albus ran to Thomas, who had to open his arms to catch him in an unexpected embrace. The man looked at Potter over the boy’s head. Fortunately, he wasn’t looking at him with anger or suspicion.

“Here, I have something for you,” Thomas said, breaking the embrace that was making him uncomfortable; he wasn’t used to such familiarity. He offered the necklace to the little boy. “I should have given it to you directly,” he said, trying to assume any bad feeling Albus had with his father.

Before taking it, Albus looked at his father for permission. When Harry smiled at him, he took the necklace with reverence.

“Thank you very much. I’ll take very good care of it.”

“I have no doubt about that,” Thomas answered.

“I’m hungry!”

“Lily!” Harry told her off, smiling despite himself.

“Come on, Albus, Granny made dragon stew!” James said, rubbing his brother’s hair.

“It’s not dragon,” Harry quickly said, at Thomas disgusted face. “But they like to imagine it is. Are you going to accompany us?” he asked, noticing the extra cutlery.

“James set it and…”

“Perfect, then,” Harry stopped him. “I don’t want to eat _dragon_ tomorrow again.”

Both men smiled. Harry nodded toward the table, where the children were expecting them, and Thomas just nodded and followed him, taking the place James had arranged for him, between Albus and his father.

“This looks tasty,” Harry said while serving dinner. “Did you help Granny in the kitchen, James?” The boy beamed at his father, and Harry kissed his head when he finished filling his plate.

“I helped, too!” Lily shouted. “We made a cake, outside.”

“A sand cake,” James clarified.

“It was beautiful!” the girl stated.

“I’m sure, honey,” Harry said, kissing his daughter’s head, too.

Albus didn’t say a word, ashamed at his behaviour the past few days, but Harry also kissed him.

Later that night, when Harry led Thomas to the fireplace, the man praised him, even though he wasn’t used to making compliments. “You have a wonderful family, Potter.”

“Harry, please. And thanks, you couldn’t give me a greater compliment. Will you come with us on Saturday?”

“As I told Albus that I would,” Thomas said.

“Well, he had to work hard for you to agree. Don’t you worry, we’ll have fun.”

“In a Muggle museum? Yes, I expect it will be an amazing experience,” Thomas ironically said.

“I like your sense of humour,” Harry said, smiling. When he realized how worshipful his voice had sounded, he took the Floo powder jar and offered some to Thomas.

The man smirked as he entered the fireplace.

*~**~**~*

“So… you work with potions, too?” Harry said.

“Too?” Thomas asked.

They were walking after Albus, who was all excited, looking all around the halls of the Muggle museum. History there was so different from how he had learned it.

“You know…” Harry mumbled. “Severus Snape, Potions Master. It’s a family trait?” he almost joked.

“No, I just trade them,” Thomas answered. He sighed and stopped to look Harry in the eye. “Look Potter, I can’t tell you the things you want to know. I didn’t know Severus Snape much, and certainly not about the time he was a Death Eater.”

“I don’t want to know about those times, I learned enough when I was gathering information for the museum.” Harry continued walking after an excited Albus. When he felt Thomas at his back, he added, “I would be grateful if you told me about him. About the man, Severus, not the Death Eater or the spy.”

“Or the hero that you draw in his museum hall,” Severus replied. They stopped again, for Albus was entranced with some fossils.

“It was necessary. At the beginning, Snape had a small corner in Albus’ hall. But people complained about a Death Eater sharing space with Dumbledore. Nobody knew what Snape had to do in following Dumbledore’s instructions.”

“And you made sure that people knew,” Thomas said.

“They need to do it. Snape deserved recognition.”

“Yes, so you got him an Order of Merlin,” Thomas said, sighing. “Potter, Severus Snape was really a Death Eater, whatever he did at the end. You’re admiring a ghost in your mind.”

“Why are you saying that? He was so young when he joined Voldemort! A short time later, he was helping Dumbledore and the Light, risking his own life! And he was years…”

“Potter.” Thomas tried to calm him, putting his hand on Harry’s shoulder. He didn’t mind Muggles looking at him, but Albus was frowning at his father. “I understand you. But you really didn’t know the man.”

“I know. And I know that I’ll never know him,” Harry sadly said. “I just want to know a little bit more about him. The person, not the fighter.”

“You really see him as a hero.”

“He was my hero, even though I didn’t know at the time. He was also a bastard,” Harry joked. “And I’ve been trying to make up both things in my mind. You could help me if you wanted. Just sharing your memories of him with me.”

“And what do I make from this?” Thomas asked.

“Were you a Slytherin?” Harry asked.

Thomas smiled but didn’t answer.

“I’ll buy you dinner and you can talk to me about Severus Snape during our soiree. What do you say?” Harry finished, offering his hand to the man.

Thomas looked at him, raising an eyebrow, but finally they shook hands, making a deal.

Albus ran to them and took both their hands, happy in the middle.

*~**~**~*

Eventually there were many dinners, lunches and even shared teas.

Not that Thomas talked that much about Snape, but he and Harry had found they shared many interests, especially regarding their professions.

But Harry wasn’t the only one of the Potter family who shared his time with Thomas. The man took care of the children often, even though it was usually Albus who was the one with him. When his grandmother was busy with her other grandchildren, Albus no longer visited the museum. He was happier with Thomas, who knew a lot of interesting things.

“Thomas, I’m so sorry I’m late,” Harry said one of those days, just arriving home after a long day of work.

“Don’t worry, they’re all in bed,” Thomas replied, serving tea for both of them as he usually did. “Judging by your clothes, you’ve been in the field again. Don’t you know Head Aurors are to stay in their offices?”

“Not when my men need me. Hermione brought Lily?” Harry asked, settling comfortably on his sofa next to his friend.

“Yes, on time. That woman doesn’t like me,” Thomas complained. “She wasn’t happy to leave me alone with the children.

“She knows there’re not many people I trust with my children,” Harry explained. “But I trust you, and she’s puzzled as to why.”

“And why do you trust me, Potter?” Thomas teased.

Harry didn’t answer, this time. They usually joked about their fast friendship and how well they got on together.

Harry knew there was more. He had noticed the way Thomas stared at him when he thought Harry was not looking. He didn’t get out much, but he knew desire, and Thomas’ eyes sometimes burned with contained lustful for him.

So that night he decided to act, even though the risk of damaging their friendship pained him.

He moved slowly, so slowly, giving time Thomas to move away from his lips. But Thomas didn’t move. Harry noticed in his wide eyes the moment he understood what was going to happen, and yet the man didn’t get away.

Their kiss was as perfect as their relationship had been. Not rushed, but it flowed nicely, as if it was not the first time their mouths had touched. Harry moaned, letting Thomas kiss him as nobody had before.

That was why Harry didn’t react when Thomas tried to push him away from him.

“Potter,” Thomas had to say against Harry’s lips, his voice harsh and deep.

Harry only moaned at that, carding locks of Thomas’ dark hair.

“Potter!” Thomas finally shouted.

This time Harry understood. He moved away from Thomas as fast as he could, panting and with his eyes wide open.

“I’m so sorry! I thought… you were…” Harry tried to explain.

“It’s all right, Harry. Just a misunderstanding,” Thomas calmed him. But he stood and walked to the fireplace. “I think it is better that I go now. Tomorrow try to arrive sooner, Potter; the boys missed you today. I’ll even make you dinner, if you’re amenable.”

“Will you stay with us?” Harry asked, still sitting and not knowing what to do with his lap, his hands trying to cover his inappropriate erection. Now he was more worried about the state of his friendship with Thomas.

“I’ll stay,” Thomas said, smiling.

“Damn,” Harry said when Thomas had disappeared into the fireplace. He messed his hair and closed his eyes, still trying to understand what had failed.

*~**~**~*

“Good morning,” Thomas greeted Nerissa when he entered the museum.

“Mister Prince. Long time no see. The museum isn’t as interesting, now that you can see Harry outside?” the girl said, glaring at the man.

“I see you miss Albus,” Thomas viciously said. He looked at Harry’s huge statue and turned his eyes to Nerissa again, smirking.

Then he just ignored her and went to Dumbledore’s hall, where he stood in front of the headmaster’s portrait.

“Albus,” he finally called, when the picture had remained void for a while.

“Oh, you again,” Dumbledore said after entering the portrait. He sat in the chair of his office. “I would offer you a seat, but as you can see, this is not one of our meetings.”

“You do know _who_ I am.”

“I do. Magical portraits have many advantages. My sherbet lemons are really tasty, thanks to the artist. I can recommend him to you. Harry commissioned a portrait for Severus Snape, but its magic never worked. Curious, don’t you think? You could tell him why it does not work. I think you talk quite often with Harry now.”

“I want to tell him about me. But I fear he’ll hate me,” the man said, looking really in distress.

“He is Harry. He grew up, perhaps, but he’s still that trusting person with a big heart. Keep that in mind, and have a little trust in him.”

“I’ll think about that,” Thomas said without much faith.

“The past is so far off and forgotten, and you paid more than you deserved for old misdeeds. I can see the faces of the people who visit this museum. The Wizarding world forgave Severus Snape a long time ago. Maybe it’s also time for you to forgive yourself, Severus…”

*~**~**~*

“Thomas?” Harry said when he arrived at home. “I didn’t know you were still with the boys. I told Molly that…”

“Don’t worry, I told her to go with Lily hours ago.”

Harry nodded and began to unbutton the tunic of his uniform. He was so tired that he collapsed on the sofa and took off his boots without minding Thomas’ presence. There was enough familiarity between them at that point. But when Thomas sat in front of him, something in his face showed that there was something worrying him. 

“Hey, what’s the matter? I’ve been working twelve hours without stop and you look worse than me. Something happened with the boys?”

“No, the boys are sleeping, they have been good. I… I want to talk to you, Harry.”

Harry closed his eyes and messed his hair. The last thing he wanted after that hell of day was to have _that_ talk with Thomas.

“If this is about what I did last week…”

“No,” Thomas stopped him. “This is about work. Your work, my work,” Thomas said with obvious distress. It was the first time Harry was seeing him other than composed.

“My work,” Harry stated, feeling a sudden bad taste in his mouth.

People always were approaching him trying to use his fame or his contacts. He didn’t like the idea of Thomas using him. Not Thomas, not after having opened the doors of his home for him. Not after the place Thomas had in his family.

“Yes, your work: specifically that kidnaping case which you’re spending hours and hours on.”

Harry abruptly stood up. “How do you know about the kidnaping case?” he aggressively asked.

“Please, Harry, trust me,” Thomas asked, signalling for Harry to sit down again. 

When Harry sat, Thomas put a flask on the coffee table between them. The Auror followed his movements without blinking.

“I lied to you.” Harry’s face showed all the pain that those words caused him. “Please, listen to me. I told you I just trade potions. That’s not true, I brew them. I even invented or improved some of them.”

Harry didn’t say a word. His lips were a fine white line, containing all his fury inside. He looked at the flask on the table, asking for an explanation.

“This is an improved Polyjuice Potion. Its effects are undetectable and more durable than the usual brew.”

“That’s why the victims disappeared without fighting,” Harry said thoughtfully. “Are you connected with the kidnaping ring?”

“No, I don’t even know them. But they’re using my potion. I’m not trading it in Britain; they obtained it in another country, where I have business. One of my clients advised me. All my trades are legal,” Thomas stated.

“If this is true, why did you lie to me?” Harry asked, this time not so professionally. “Why did you keep that from me?”

“The Potions master who brews a concoction signs it with his magical signature,” Thomas explained.

“No,” Harry said, vigorously shaking his head. “No,” he repeated in denial, staring at the flask over the table.

“This is the antidote,” Thomas said, putting a little jar beside the bigger flask. “Just two drops and the Polyjuice effect will dissipate.”

Harry glared at him, not really wanting to listen to his explanations. But then Thomas took the smaller jar and opened it. Harry shook his head again, not wanting to believe what his eyes were seeing. Thomas Prince, the man he had come to know and love, was taking his own antidote.

Standing up and readying his wand, Harry observed how the man’s features trembled and changed. After merely seconds that seemed an eternity for him, the man in front of him looked at him with a new face. A face he knew very well.

“Bastard!” Harry shouted. The hand holding his wand trembled while pointing at Severus Snape. “You! You…” Harry’s voice broke in a sob.

The room remained in silence until the clatter of Harry’s wand when it fell to the floor. Severus was the one to pick up, for Harry was still stunned.

“Don’t touch me!” Harry shouted when Severus took his arm. But he let the man lead him to the couch, where they sat together. “Don’t stay so close, you…”

“Shh… you don’t want to wake up the children.”

Harry gasped when he heard that velvety voice. He covered his face with his hands. By the time he looked at Snape again, his eyes were red and his cheeks wet.

“You’re alive,” Harry whispered.

“Unsurprisingly, you’re stating the obvious, Potter,” Snape said.

For a moment, Harry looked as if he was about to throttle him. A second after, he burst into hysterical laughter

“It’s really you,” he said some time later, cleaning his mixed tears of pain and joy.

Snape just nodded, knowing that Harry needed time to come to terms with his appearance.

“I hate you,” Harry said, without aversion in his voice.

“No, you don’t. You dedicated me a hall in your own museum, Potter,” Severus joked. “You even named your son after me!”

Harry moaned and covered his face again. “Merlin, I kissed you!” he said behind his hands.

“Do you regret it?” Severus asked, taking Harry’s hands in his to meet his eyes.

“No,” Harry simply said. “But you rejected me,” he complained, feeling now more humiliation than on that awful day.

“Thomas rejected you. You thought you were kissing another man. I wanted nothing more than to kiss you back,” Severus said, finally lifting that weight off. He kissed one of Harry’s hands, getting closer to him.

“Were you going to tell me sometime?” Harry asked, gazing at Severus’ face with enraptured interest.

Snape chuckled and bit one of Harry’s fingers. “I was afraid of losing you, losing Albus, your family… I’m not the brave man you think I am, Harry.”

Harry’s finally let himself be carried away by his feelings and embraced Severus Snape. It was different from being in Thomas’ arms: the scent, the tightness of his embrace. Harry’s hand reached for that black hair, greying already in some places. Severus’ hair was longer than Thomas’, and Harry loved the difference.

Severus moved his head, as if he was after Harry’s warm touch. That was when Harry noticed the large scar on his neck. He contained a gasp, but he couldn’t help but trace it with his fingertips.

“How did you survive?” Harry asked.

Snape sighed deeply, moving Harry’s fingers when he swallowed.

“You really want to talk about that? Now?”

Harry smirked. Severus took his chin to steady him and wiped away that smirk with his own lips.

This time he didn’t contain his desire. After days and days admiring the man Harry had become—the capable Auror, the father—Severus took possession of his mouth without mercy.

“I’ve dreamed of having you in my arms so many times,” Harry whispered.

“Shh…” Severus silenced him, first with his finger and then with his mouth as well.

They ended up all over the couch, Severus body covering Harry’s, their hands lost on each other: touching, tasting, exploring what they could over their clothes.

Harry was the one to put that frenzied kissing to an end. He pushed Severus with one hand, without stopping nuzzling his neck. When they were sitting once again, Harry gently kissed his lips.

“I need to go now, wait for me,” Harry asked, kissing him again. “You are not going to disappear again, are you?” he joked, even though his tone of voice was taut and he didn’t look at Severus’ eyes while he was putting his boots on. When he finished, he stood up and took both jars from the table. “I will not mention you,” he finally said, buttoning his tunic again.

“You really trust me with that?” Severus asked.

“Always.”

Harry came back to him and kissed him one last time before moving towards the fireplace.

“Wait for me in my bedroom,” Harry said, turning back at the last moment. “And erase that grin off your face; I just don’t want you to scare the children if they come down…”

Severus nodded, still smiling at him. Things had gone better than he had expected. And he hoped that the night would end even better…

*~**~**~*

Revising the case with Severus’ new data took Harry more time than he had hoped. It was early morning when he finally arrived home.

He smiled at the image he found in his room: Severus Snape sleeping in his bed. The man still was all clothed; obviously he had fallen sleep over the covers.

Harry quietly took his tunic and his boots off before sitting on the edge of the bed. He watched Severus sleep, enjoying the peacefulness of a face he’d thought he would never see again.

It was a shame to wake him up, but Harry wanted to talk to him before his children would awaken. So he combed Severus’ hair with his fingers, smiling when the man opened his eyes and looked at him.

“Good morning,” Harry whispered.

Severus looked at the window to see the faint light of the sunrise. “Took you long enough. Is everything all right?”

Harry nodded with a smile, still with his fingers in Severus’ black hair.

“Things are ongoing. It happens that I doubled my turn of twelve hours. I’m awake just because of stubbornness and Pepperup Potion.”

Severus moved away to make room for Harry on his own bed.

“They questioned you?” Severus asked.

“Not about my sources, my men trust me. But I’ve been thinking a lot. I need answers, Severus,” Harry said, placing his head on Severus chest. Sometimes it was easier not to make eye contact, especially for what Harry wanted to discuss. “I need to know…”

Severus suddenly embraced him and tried to shut him up with his lips, but Harry broke the kiss and glared at him.

“Is it my morning breath?” Severus joked.

“Snape…” Harry angrily said.

“Are you going to interrogate me?” Severus said, sitting up against the headboard.

“If I was here as Head Auror, you’d be in so much trouble,” Harry said nonchalantly. He also sat up, his body in line with Severus’. “I just need to know your mind, before open my home to you.”

Severus stared at some point in the wall in front of him. “I would never do anything that would damage your family, Potter.”

“I know. You suffered enough trying to keep me alive. But you can hurt us all the same just by disappearing. What are your plans? Are you going to stay, this time? Are you ready to tell Albus, the other children?”

“Harry, when I came back I was just visiting my long-forgotten past. I was going to stay merely a couple of weeks. I prolonged my stay only because of you,” Severus confessed. Harry rewarded him with a kiss and a hopeful smile.

“And now? There’s a possibility that you put those plans away indefinitely?”

“What are you offering?” Severus teased him.

“Nothing if you’re going away from us. But if you finally decide to stay… we can see if I’m as much at ease with you as I was with Thomas.”

Severus pushed Harry until he was lying completely on the bed and placed himself on top of him.

“I’m not going to be on probation, Potter,” he whispered against Harry’s lips. “Although I could be persuaded to establish my business here. Maybe the head of the Auror office would help me with the licences…”

Harry beamed at that. If he had come to know the real Severus those last weeks, he was making a real statement. Even though Severus was teasing him, and he bit his nose in revenge.

“You will tell Lily and the boys,” Harry demanded, stopping Severus’ inflamed kisses.

“I’ll tell them that I’m alive,” Severus agreed. But he didn’t meet Harry’s eyes. “I will not explain them about Thomas.” He looked at Harry, contrite but decided. “I don’t want Albus doubting me. I don’t want them thinking that I lied to them.”

“Let them know you,” Harry agreed. “But you will tell them someday,” he added firmly. “Thomas Prince exists?” he asked, one of the things he had pondered all night long.

“Thomas Gregory Prince exists. He’s really my cousin. He knows that I’m impersonating him; he helped me when… after the Battle of Hogwarts…”

“It’s all right. We’ll talk about this… later,” Harry said, noticing Severus’ change of mood at the mention of his _death_. They embraced for a while, sealing a silent deal between them.

The warmth of their bodies was making Harry numb, but before falling asleep he felt tender caresses that brightened him up. 

“You’re gorgeous in uniform,” Severus said, his lips caressing Harry’s neck. His hands played with the buttons of Harry’s shirt. “How much time have we before the boys wake up?” he asked intently.

“As Lily’s always up the first, and she’s at the Burrow at the moment, we have enough time,” Harry replied in a satisfied tone of voice. “I’ve closed the door.”

In no time Harry was nude, in spite of how much Severus loved him in his uniform. But he had wanted to see his body for weeks, imagining what would be under those fittied clothes. And he wasn’t disappointed at what he saw. Certainly the head Auror was as fit as his men.

For a while Harry let Severus examine his body. But his light touches and smooth kisses soon ignited his own desire, and his hands began to work on his lover’s clothes.

Severus wasn’t as indulgent as Harry. He took his wandering hands and pinned them over Harry’s head.

“Let me,” he said, unusually lost for words. He was panting, trying to catch his breath while he was admiring Harry’s muscles. “Let me pleasure you. You’ll have your time with me.”

Harry beamed at him, happy at the promise of more, more time together, more intimacy between them. He had dreamed so many times of having Thomas in his bed. Now with Severus, suddenly all was better.

Severus didn’t wait for any answer more than Harry’s smile. He let go of Harry’s hands, satisfied when Harry kept them in place, and continued kissing and lapping his way down Harry’s body. His nipples and body hair looked wet after Severus had finished ravaging his lover’s torso.

“You’re wasting time,” Harry complained as Severus was biting and nuzzling his left hip. “The boys are going to interrupt us, and I will curse you. You don’t imagine how many dark spells a head Auror knows,” Harry threatened him.

“You really want to talk about dark spells? You must remember who you are talking to,” Severus seriously answered. Harry moved his hips, trying to reclaim his attention. “You simply want to hurry me because you’re an impatient brat,” Severus said, his voice gravelly and hoarse.

Harry moaned aloud, his cock shifting in agreement with Severus’ words. Or at least with his demanding and authoritarian tone.

“Definitely something to pursue in the future,” Severus said, smirking. “But for now I’m going to please you,” he added, kissing his abused hip. “Or you’re going to fell asleep on me.”

Harry was about to complain when the skill of Severus’ mouth made him forget his own name. He soon had to admit that maybe he was a little bit tired. It was that or shaming himself at how fast Severus was bringing him to his peak.

The talented caresses of that wise tongue were speeding his pleasure, not letting him recover. His mind was wandering, slow to capture all the sensations of Severus’ mouth all over his cock.

After a week working on hard shifts Harry barely had touched his dick except to relieve himself, so when Severus caressed his entrance at the same time that he sucked the head of his cock, there was nothing Harry could do to contain his release.

Severus finished cleaning him with his own tongue, lapping the few drops that had escaped from his mouth.

Kissing his way up once again, he found Harry had finally succumbed to so many hours awake. Severus smiled tenderly at the vision of one Harry Potter; head of the Auror office and saviour of the Wizarding world, sleeping calm and secure in his arms.

*~**~**~*

Harry opened his eyes as soon as his mind recalled how he had fallen asleep. He was alone in his room. No Thomas… well, no Severus. No lover warming his bed.

He put on the comfortable clothes he used for wearing at home and went to the dining room, where he heard voices.

“Good morning,” he mumbled with a husky voice.

“It’s lunch time, Daddy!” Albus said, sitting at the table with his brother. “Thomas is preparing our meal.”

Harry looked towards the kitchen, where Severus was cooking. It was a shock seeing another man when he knew who really was looking at him with a smug smile.

“Good morning to you,” Severus joked. “Lunch is almost ready. Do you want some eggs? I left some Pepperup Potion on top of the second shelf,” he motioned with his head.

“Thanks, I need it,” Harry said, quickly downing it. Then he approached Severus, covertly leaning his body against him. “Are you eating with us?”

Severus looked at him, raising a brow before pushing him away with his hip.

“I shouldn’t. I need to talk with someone,” he said, looking at Harry’s eyes and then looking at the little boys, who weren’t paying attention to the kitchen.

“And this someone could come and eat with us?” Harry asked.

“Do you think it would be wise?”

Harry nodded, noticing that Severus was as anxious as he. But Harry knew his sons, and trusted them to understand the situation. Besides, it was better that Lily wasn’t at home, for she was still little to comprehend about death.

When Severus dropped a spoon with a trembling hand, Harry indicated to him to go away, and he finished their lunch. While _Thomas_ was saying goodbye to his boys, Harry finished their meal and put it under a preserving spell.

“Boys, I need to tell you something,” Harry said when they were alone.

“But Daddy, I’m hungry,” Albus complained.

“It’s about Severus Snape. You really want to wait?” Harry asked, knowing well what could be the answer. James knew too, because he was smiling.

“No!!! I want to know NOW!”

“OK, so sit and hear. Ears ready?”

“Ears ready!” both boys replied in a familiar fixed expression.

“You both know that before knowing Thomas we thought Severus had no family and he was alone. Nobody in the Wizarding world trusted him after he had to obey Dumbledore and finish him. So he didn’t contact anybody after the Battle of Hogwarts.”

“But Daddy, the snake killed him, you said so. He died before you won over Voldemort,” Albus said. His father’s words didn’t make sense to him.

“He didn’t die, Albus,” Harry looked at James, too, finding in his eyes the same confusion. “He didn’t want to face the consequences of the things he had to do under Dumbledore’s guidance, and as he didn’t have anyone waiting for him, he decided to leave the Wizarding world.”

Harry looked at his sons. Albus was open-mouthed, his eyes wide open and his mind racing at highest speed. James was frowning and looking at his father as if he had lost his mind.

“Does Thomas know where he is? I want to see him!!!” Albus shouted, all excited when he finally understood that his beloved hero was alive.

Before doing anything more, Harry looked at James, who was still glaring at him. James had always been a pragmatic boy.

“I don’t believe you,” he said, even though his voice didn’t reveal much certainty.

“Wait here,” Harry directed before leaving the dining room.

Severus was waiting for him in front of the fireplace in the hall. With his own appearance. He had listened to all the Potters’ exchange and now he was more nervous than before, even though he wasn’t going to admit that out loud.

Harry reassuringly smiled at him. It was comforting to see him again: his body, his deep voice, and those long fingers that were raised to caress his chin. Harry leaned his cheek on Severus’ hand, looking for his warm security.

“Focus, Potter,” Severus whispered. And took again Harry’s chin to kiss his lips more briefly than Harry would have liked.

A sound at their backs startled them. When they turned around they found Albus sticking his head out through the dining room door. James stepped behind him, holding his brother’s shoulders.

“Albus, James,” Harry solemnly called them, smiling at their gobsmacked faces. “This is Severus Snape.” Seeing as neither of his sons moved a finger, Harry continued with the introductions: “Severus, those are my sons, Albus and James.”

Severus never had been fond of children, especially when he lived in a school. After those times his life and business had kept him far from any contact with any Muggle or magical child.

However, these past weeks he had enjoyed the company of these children, even Lily’s with her doll tea parties and her delicate manners. He had come to love them, especially Albus Severus, with whom he had shared the most time.

So it pained him so much that Albus approached him hesitatingly, looking at him with awe but showing concern, too.

“I’m Albus Severus,” the boy muttered. “I’m your namesake.”

“I see,” Severus replied, crouching down to his level.

At Albus timid smile, Severus couldn’t help but smile in return. He almost fell backwards when the child launched himself into his arms, happy that his namesake wasn’t as severe as everybody had told him.

Severus stood up, holding an ecstatic Albus in his arms. Then he approached James, who was looking at him with suspicion. They shook hands, and Harry placed himself at James’ back, reassuring him.

“There’s something you want to ask, James?” Severus asked, knowing that the boy had many doubts.

“How can you be alive? Dad saw you dying. He saw, he has told us so many times.”

“James, we’ll talk about that later, after lunch. We can’t let spoil that meal that Thomas kindly prepared us, can we?”

James nodded and took his father’s hand. They sat at the table, Albus close to Severus and Harry with James, whose sad face couldn’t be less like Albus’ beam.

“I don’t mind explaining things to you, James, if do you want to talk about it,” Severus finally said, noticing Harry’s distress over his older son.

“I just want to know… Can be Sirius alive too?” the boy uneasily asked. “And my grandparents?”

Harry’ face showed the shock and pain that the question produced in him. Severus dared to reach his hand and take Harry’s. After all, the boys had to begin to get used to their closeness.

“James, they’re really dead. You’re too young to understand, but later I’ll explain to you how I feigned my demise. I’m sorry,” Severus said when he saw all hope fade in James’ face.

They remained silent for a while, eating and each one of them thinking about Thomas’ and Severus’ presences in their lives

Until Albus shouted, “We’ll have to change so many things at the museum!”

Harry and Severus locked eyes just a second before bursting out laughing. Even James giggled and messed with his brother’s hair.

“Certainly,” Severus said when he calmed enough. “But this time I’ll be in charge.” Harry smiled at him and nodded, which made Albus clap excitably. “And we’re keeping the Order of Merlin First Class to us,” he added, winking to Albus.

Harry stared at Severus in awe. He looked at his boys, and then returned his gaze to Severus, who was staring at him in return.

They smiled, secretly sharing the same thoughts about their future together.

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Torino for all the Snarry and to Badgerlady for all the beta work, without her this story would not have seen the light.  
> All my love for Suitesamba; gracias cielo, espero que te haya gustado porque la hice con mucho cariño, dentro de mis limitadas posibilidades con tu idioma.


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